


The Piano Knows Something I Don't

by thatviciousvixen



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 13:37:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1607057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatviciousvixen/pseuds/thatviciousvixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Will buys Frederick a rather expensive present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Piano Knows Something I Don't

**Author's Note:**

> Pure, unabashed fluff. Unbeta'd, because that's how I roll. Come fine me on tumblr as that-vicious-vixen.

“Has this…has the piano always been here?”

Will looks up sheepishly from the dog he’s brushing- Buster, or Bruiser, or something. Chilton can never keep track of these dogs and their names, he’s got enough on his plate now that Lecter has been caught and he’s back to work at the Institute. Will is lucky he even acknowledges the dogs now, and on a good day he won’t groan about them being allowed on the couch, or the bed, or the dining room chairs, or wherever the hell else these dogs want to go.

Animals.

Will’s voice brings him out of his stream-of-conscience. He seems uneasy about the sudden appearance in his sitting room, like he was hoping the good doctor wouldn’t notice it there. “No, it’s um, it’s new.”

Chilton frowns, walking over to study the piano. It’s nothing fancy, there’s definitely wear around the edges and the keys aren’t as white as he assumes they once were. In a way, that feels right. He never liked instruments that hadn’t been well loved, they felt too stiff and unyielding. A good piano was supple, in-tune but broken in. “I didn’t know you played,” he said, reverently running his fingertips over the faded ivory of the keys. He pressed down, smiling at the clear tone that hummed through the room.

“I…don’t,” Will said slowly. “It’s not for me.”

Chilton turns, fairly confused. “Did you pick it up for someone?” He can’t think of anyone that would play, except maybe Hannibal Lecter. It brings him great satisfaction that he won’t have access to live music where he is now.

“Yes,” he mumbles, clearly uncomfortable as he rubs at the back of his neck and shifts his weight from foot-to-foot. He’s doing everything he can not to make eye contact, his gaze sweeping around the room. “Yeah, I picked it up for you.”

Chilton turns, eyes wide as his jaw just barely drops. “What…you don’t mean that, you couldn’t have…”

“I did,” Will insists, still shy but with a hint of defiance in his voice. “You mentioned your birthday is coming up. I know you miss the one at your house, and I was hoping you’d want to maybe KEEP staying here, even now that your name is clear and all…so I figured you’d need one here. And I was hoping that maybe you’d play for me sometime.”

Chilton doesn’t quite know what to say, so he slowly turns to examine the piano. “This…this is an expensive present, Will.”

“No, it wasn’t that bad,” the other insists, moving closer. “I mean, it’s nothing incredibly fancy or new, there’s not much room for a baby grand in here, and I mean, it’s definitely used and-”

“Will, it’s beautiful.”

Will immediately shuts up, a pleased flush creeping over his cheeks. “Will you play something?”

Chilton almost cringes at the request, but he realizes he doesn’t have much right after being given such a beautiful gift. He also realizes, with no small amount of surprise, that he WANTS to play for Will. So he sits, once again running his fingers over the smooth keys. He wants to play something that means something, but God, he’s terrified to let Will see too much of how he feels. He worked so hard for so long to build his walls, how willing is he to tear them down now?

With a deep breath he begins to play, lovingly pressing and stroking each key as the melody fills the room. It’s simple, just an old lullaby his mother used to sing him when he was a baby. Chilton smiles softly, remembering the way she would stroke his hair back, sitting on the edge of his bed each night. Her voice had always been so warm and clear. From early on he’d learned that music could chase away any bad dream that might haunt him, especially when it came from someone he loved so dearly. Closing his eyes he begins to sing, the words from so long ago easily coming back to him.

When the song ends Chilton is reluctant to open his eyes. Anything to savor this moment.

Suddenly there’s a warm hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “That was….thank you,” Will murmurs. It’s clear he’s struggling with emotions. Will Graham doesn’t interact easily, each word he speaks is carefully weighed and measured, and it’s easy for him to be overwhelmed. There’s more he wants to say, but he’s not comfortable saying it just yet. That’s fine, for now Chilton has the look in his eyes and the piano Will bought to keep him there. For a moment he thinks back to the Institute, to Will in a cell, to all the awful things he did to make him open up. He knows he should feel guilty, but things are so different now.

A piano, for God’s sake. Will bought him a piano.

“Come on,” he murmurs, smiling at Will. “I’ll make dinner. I suppose we need to negotiate my officially moving in.”

At that Will smiles, which is better than any song in the world.


End file.
